Pray Hard Please

 

The text came in early this morning, "They think he's developed pneumonia. White blood cell counts are up and organs don't look good. We could lose him today." 

This was my friend and MC at one of the missions, a man I'd worshiped with at the Altar, Sunday by Sunday, for the past thirteen years. An outstanding athlete in his day, he's now on a ventilator. 

So I dropped everything and drove to an ICU in Waco to administer the sacrament of Extreme Unction, and offer the prayers of the Church. “Go forth, Christian soul..." and if it's God's will, return to health. I'll be honest, everyone's praying for a miracle and I''m asking you to do so too.

He was and is a good man. Nothing remotely fake about him, he called his shots as he saw them and if he didn't suffer fools gladly was always good to me, sometimes in a tough way.

For example, a few years back I was laid up in bed with a broken hip, thanks to a mad Arab, and I called my friend on Saturday morning, "Hey, have you got a priest to cover the Mass tomorrow?" A short pause, "No, I haven't." I thought for a moment, mind like a steel trap, "Why not?" A shorter pause, "Because you're doing it."

Not wanting to seem like a pathetic soy of a wimp I rolled up to the Altar the next day on a walker and said Mass, MC at my side. One his daughters took a photo and produced a meme, when an old cowboy bullies his priest into saying Mass with a broken leg. Ha. But hey, he was right, got me moving.

I say again, please pray for a miracle and in the absence of a sign, for the angels to escort this good soul to paradise.

LSP

Rodeo

Yesterday was a big day. Great shooting enjoyment in the morning and then evening rodeo in Waco. 

OK, it's no fun to drive to Waco but the Extraco venue's a great place to see the event, far better than a massive stadium because you're closer to the action, especially with a ringside view.

Good, too, to be with some of the people who organize the competition, which makes everything more personal. But regardless, I like the excitement of the thing.

So much suspense: will she make that barrel, will he get stomped by a raging bull? Why is that USMC veteran a rodeo clown? How long will he stay on the ferociously bucking horse and will he die if he's thrown off into the arena? And so on.

I tell you, adrenaline's up and at it. And guess what, none of the people there took a knee for the national anthem. They're patriots who do not disrespect the flag. The PRA's very different to, say, the NFL or the NBA and thank God for it. 

All that in mind and more, what a great night out. When I got back to the bucolic haven that is this small rural farming community, my eldest called in from Korea. 

"Hey, dad, what's up?" I told him and learned that he 's fine and enjoying army life. Thank God. But exactly what this entails is a bit of a mystery because he steadfastly refuses to send photos of anything beyond being in the "motor pool." Though I've been told beaches are involved. Hmmm.

Therein lies another post. 

Ride on,

LSP